


May I Have This Dance

by sohappily (somuchitshurting)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Golden Deer fam just being cool brothers and sisters, Hilda is the most, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 21:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somuchitshurting/pseuds/sohappily
Summary: Everyone in the Golden Deer house is excited about the upcoming ball. Everyone except Claude, of course.Byleth plans to change that.An alternate look at how the ball could go. Spoilers for all chapters of Part 1.





	May I Have This Dance

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to apologize if even my story description spoiled the appearance of a ball in the game. Then I want to ask you to continue playing this masterpiece of a game so nothing else gets spoiled.
> 
> I loved the ball, mainly because we got that lovely cutscene of dancing with Claude. Here's another take on what could have happened.

When the Ethereal Moon arrives, the Officers Academy is abuzz with talk of the upcoming ball, especially the Golden Deer house. Byleth’s students, while showing their grievances for the tragedy that happened at Remire Village, are eager to partake in even the smallest bit of merriment, and the ball came at an opportune time.

Hilda, of course, is the master class of parties and leads the hype for the ball. “Just think of how fun it’s all gonna be!” she gushes. “The dancing, oh, the dancing! You can’t dance with the same guy twice, so _every _man has to take a chance with you!” She swoons and brings her fists to her mouth in a giddy trance. Marianne gives a faint smile and whispers, “That will certainly take the pressure off of having to ask someone to dance,” and Leonie smiles big and shouts, “This is great, I’ve been wanting to talk more with some of the boys from the Black Eagles for ages!”

Even Lysithea, who mutters, “Who has time for this? I don’t have time for this!” seems to smile at the prospect of dancing with others.

The boys don’t hide their excitement, either. Raphael shouts about how great the food at the ball will be, and Ignatz begins talking about how the movement and flourishes of the dancers will create an excellent painting. Lorenz scoffs and says, “You two aren’t taking this seriously enough. This ball is an impeccable way to find out who can truly be considered wife material. After all, only the best will be able to dance with Lorenz Hellman Gloucester!”

“What are you talking about, silly?” Hilda smiles. “You have to dance with all the girls that night, otherwise it just makes you look like a trashy noble!”

“You mean… even the commoners?”

“_Hey_! What’s wrong with commoners?” Leonie yells. Lorenz begins stammering apologies at her, claiming, “No, no, that’s not what I’ve meant, you might have taken that the wrong way…” but Leonie has already pulled a lance off from a nearby rack and swings it precariously at Lorenz’s face. Although there is terror in his eyes, the action is made in jest, and the students laugh.

Yes, everyone is excited. Everyone except…

“Claude.” Byleth walks over to the corner where the boy had been brooding. His back had been turned to the group, and he stares out of the classroom window at the monastery grounds.

“Oh, hey Teach. Guess you’ve caught me spacing out.” He seems sheepish enough, but he doesn’t turn to meet Byleth’s eyes.

“Your peers seem to be encapsulated with merriment,” Byleth mentions. “And yet, you do not join them. Would you like to tell me the reason why?”

Claude turns to her now, and gives her a famous Claude smirk. “Hey, are you trying to make me give up my secrets? Come on now, Teach, I can’t give them up that easily.” He tries to push away the subject with his teasing, and he even puts his arms behind his head to show good intentions.

But Byleth is smarter than to fall for his ruse.

“What troubles you, Claude? Why do you not smile as your classmates do?”

Claude puts his arms down in defeat and looks back to the window. The other students are occupied with giddy chatter, and they seem to pay no attention to the teacher and her Golden Deer. “I just don’t understand all this,” he confesses. “How they can all set aside what happened at Remire Village and what’s been going on at Garegg Mach with all the kidnappings and such. Is now really the time to be celebrating with a ball when the threat of danger looms over our head?” He pauses, then says, “And you, Teach. I just can’t figure you out. Who are you?” He turns to look Byleth straight in the eyes, and her heart almost skips a beat. When the boy settles down and actually is serious for once, he has a very handsome face.

“I can’t describe exactly how I saw it, but during our last battle, Tomas… or, Solon, I guess I should say, almost got me with his dark magic. I could feel it swallowing me whole and drowning me in its despair. And yet… this isn’t what happened. It feels like a memory of an incident that I never experienced. You came out of nowhere and sliced him down with the Sword of the Creator, even though you were halfway across the field.” He shakes his head. “I just don’t understand it.”

And Byleth didn’t really understand it, either. The green-haired girl that had decided to take residence in her body blabbed about how careless she was to use her power so sparingly, and that it was only to be used in dire circumstances, but she didn’t understand what Byleth felt when she saw that magic consume Claude from the inside out or what she felt when his screams of agony pierced the air. She would use the Divine Pulses a thousand times if it meant never having Claude go through that torture again.

“Do not worry about me. I assure you that when the time comes, I will share with you what I know of myself. I will assume that you will repay the favor and tell me who you truly are as well, one day.” This catches Claude off guard, and he tries to state that he isn’t hiding anything, but Byleth gives him a simple curt nod. “Your personal assignment this month is to enjoy the ball. Dance with your classmates, share in their revelry, help with preparations. You can manage that, I believe. After all, the ballroom is merely a different type of battlefield.”

Byleth leaves him to his thoughts and thinks about how he would look, truly happy, at a ball. His eyes aglow with joy and his cheeks flushed with the excitement of dance. He would be grinning from ear to ear, and his infectious laugh would be ringing throughout the hall. His hair would be combed for once, and he’d be dressed up in finery, a bewitching sight to see. His eyes would lock with hers, and they would hold each other close in dance, their hands clasped together in a musical embrace.

She tries to push away such thoughts. Is it impure to think such things about a student, even if they are only a few years her junior? It was true that she held Claude in a different light than the others. From the moment she chose their house and the boy teased her for joining simply because of him, to the intimate tea party she held for his birthday, it was obvious that he was something special to her. She tried to be impartial to all of her students, and she succeeded with most of them, but when she thought of who was the most valuable member of her class, Claude always came to mind.

He wasn’t the most studious; that award went to Lysithea. He wasn’t the most formal of nobles, like Lorenz. He wasn’t the strongest, like Raphael, or the best with animals, like Marianne, and he certainly wasn’t the most obsessed with her father. He was simply good at it all, a jack of all trades. Perhaps it was his charisma or talent of scheming that made him so interesting. And he mentioned occasionally how he felt that he was an outsider wherever he went. The monastery must have been no different. Byleth could sympathize with never having a place to truly belong. But maybe it was his ideals, his longing for equality, that made him the most noble of them all.

The fascination with the other didn’t seem to go one way. Claude was definitely interested in his professor, dropping not-so-subtle hints her way. He asked her more than any other student for private lessons with his weapons to sharpen his skills, and he spent more time after class asking her questions than even Lysithea. Half the time, these occasions didn’t even result in actual academic learning. They ended up being story time of one of Claude’s schemes, or impressions of Byleth’s stern, unwavering face that Claude could not imitate before breaking out laughing. And occasionally, they would share meals in the dining hall and let down their guards and simply talk.

In those moments, they weren’t Professor and Student, they were Byleth and Claude. Those moments made coming to Garegg Mach all worth it.

During the next few weeks, the students talk day in and day out about the details of the ball. Hilda describes the lavish outfit that she will be wearing, along with the necklaces and bracelets that will be adorning her, and what scent her perfume will be, and how her makeup will be done, and her top three choices of how her hair will be styled. Marianne encourages her silently, her stoic joy emanating as she accompanies her friend on trips to the market to find just the right flowers to wear in their hair.

Leonie talks about how in her village, it is customary for the women to ask the men to dance instead of the other way around, and she intends to use this as an excuse to ask Jeralt to dance. “Listen, I don’t like him that way or anything, but if I want to truly be the perfect apprentice, I need to be able to learn how he dances!” Lorenz scoffs at the notion, saying how it is uncouth for a noble man to allow the woman to make the first move as all laws of chivalry state that the man must be the first to act. When Leonie overhears this, a huge cry of, “You’re such a sexist pig!” echoes through the monastery, and Lorenz is later found in the infirmary being tended by Manuela, lamenting how if she was younger, she would be dancing with all the boys.

Raphael hovers around the dining hall daily, checking and double checking the menu for the ball until he can recite it in his sleep. His presence becomes troublesome enough that the head chef comes to Byleth while she is preparing next week’s lesson to “please allow him in the dining hall only during mealtime.” Ignatz, meanwhile, begins planning how to ask girls to dance with him, and his nerves shake him down to his core. “I can’t do something like that! I don’t want to be a nuisance to all these girls. How could I ever approach anyone and ask them to dance with me?” Lysithea angrily shuts the book she’s been reading, and states, “It’s a _ball, _Ignatz, no one is going to look at you weird for asking them to dance. Also, this is the library, which means _be quiet_!”

And much to Byleth’s relief, Claude seems to be getting into the ball spirit. He offers to help Hanneman clear out the tables in the hall the day of the ball, and he inserts himself into more conversations than standing off to the side. When Byleth catches him in a conversation with Lorenz and Ignatz about how to properly wear a corsage, Claude gives her a cheeky wink and a smile. It’s nice to see the boy smile again.

She’s almost escaped judgment from her students when Hilda, the conniving girl, raises a question in class. “So, Professor, what will you be wearing to the ball?”

The question halts Byleth in her tracks, and she stops writing on the board. “Hilda, this lesson is about tactics taken in thick fog, not ballroom apparel.”

“Okay, yes, fog is nice and all, but sincerely Professor, what will you be wearing?”

Byleth is about to ignore her question all together, but for the first time all month, all her students seem to be attentive to her instruction. Even Raphael, who mostly sleeps during lecture, seems mildly curious. And Claude is staring at her with a curious look in his eyes and a slight pink tint on his cheeks. Is he blushing?

“Probably just my standard armor. Uniforms are considered formal at most occasions, and I expect this to be no different.”

Hilda just about loses it. “Are you kidding me, Professor? You’re gonna wear some huge, clunky piece of metal to a delicate gathering like a ball? No, that’s definitely out of the question. We need to find you a dress or something to wear. Right, ladies?” The other girls in the class start nodding, and Leonie gives Byleth a huge thumbs-up, saying, “You’d look great in a strapless!”

Byleth fumbles around for her words. “No, that’s alright, I assure you, I will be fine the way I am.”

“That might be what you think, but unfortunately, I must disagree with you, Professor.” Lorenz speaks up, and he’s shaking his head. “It is simply more proper for a female to be in formal attire than a military uniform during matters such as this, unless you were part of an organization like the Knights of Seiros and others.” Seeing the fire in Leonie’s eyes, he quickly adds, “The same goes for the men as well, but they often can settle for a more stripped-down version of their armor and wear their soldier uniforms instead of the whole ensemble.”

“What about your hair, too, Professor?” Hilda’s got this dancing look in her eyes, and her elbows are propped up on her desk with her face resting in her fists. “Don’t tell me you’re just going to wear it down like you always do. Those choppy layers are a _mess_.”

Byleth freezes and stares at Hilda, unable to retort back. She liked the way her hair always looked, dammit.

“I think it would be quite nice if you put your hair up,” Marianne whispers. “You have a very nice face, and it would be quite elegant if your hair showed off your features.”

“Yeah, definitely!” Raphael joins the fray. “I’ve done my little sister’s hair a thousand times, I could totally help you out if you wanted!”

Hilda dismisses him with a wave of her hand. “Ugh, no, no, Raphael, that’s fine, I’ll take care of the Professor’s hair. And her dress. And her makeup. I’m prepared to sacrifice myself for this mission, so I should be rewarded with cheering from the sidelines next battle instead of being on the field.”

“I can see it now!” Ignatz has a fire lit under him. “The professor and all of us dancing around her, her dress swaying with such grace and levity. It would make the perfect scene for a painting!” Lysithea smiles wide and says, “That would actually be quite a lot of fun! I would really enjoy our whole class getting together and dancing!”

The students continue their scheming, but one infamous plotter sits quietly to the side. Claude has his face hidden by his hands as he nonchalantly rests his elbows on his desk, but there’s no denying it. He’s a brilliant beet red. His face is completely burning up. Envisioning her image, perhaps?

“Okay, _okay_! That will be enough. If I promise to allow you to prepare me for the ball, will you all pay attention to the rest of my lessons this moon?”

Hilda beams a flashy grin, the clear MVP of this battle. “Of _course_, Professor. Anything for you.”

The days leading up to the ball become a heinous volley of one girly preparation after the next. All four female students take their professor to the market to try to find her the perfect dress. Marianne, flustered by the prospect, tries to escape the large gathering by saying she would only get in the way, but Hilda grabs her by the arm, saying how this trip will just be like their trips together, only with more girls and a lot more fashion.

They chat up the various merchants, and Lysithea finds one particular merchant, a red-haired woman calling herself Anna, with a beautiful array of dresses. Each one is more elegant and extraordinary than the next, but so are their price tags.

“I don’t get it, why don’t we just let the professor borrow one of our dresses?” Leonie grumbles. “I hate dresses that only get used for one event; it’s such a waste of money and a waste of a good dress.”

“I totally thought about that, but it’ll be better if we get the Professor her own dress,” Hilda states. “Besides, I’m pretty sure the Professor has the biggest chest in the whole academy. Nobody’s dress will fit her!”

Byleth snaps her face to meet Hilda’s glance, and she goes white in terror. “That’s not a bad thing though, I swear! I wish my boobs were as big as yours!”

They force Byleth to try on Anna’s many dresses but get discouraged at the results. Each time she comes out of the dressing tent, there seems to be something wrong with the dress. This one is too long, _wow,_ that one is too short, this has too much beadwork in it, this looks like a dress you’d wear to my grandmother’s funeral.

“Hilda, surely this dress will suffice,” Byleth gripes, getting frustrated at turning into their dress-up doll.

“Professor, you have to trust me, we will know when we found the perfect dress. Annnnd this is not it. _Next_!”

Lysithea looks utterly bored of it all and she takes out a book from her pocket and begins reading. Marianne gives soft smiles but no commentary on the many dresses, and Leonie, having determined that Byleth would not use this dress for only one occasion, revels in her resolve to find the perfect dress. “Come on, Professor!” she keeps shouting. “Just one more dress, we can do it!”

Finally, _finally_ they find it. The perfect dress.

The dress is drenched in sapphire blue, with a small slit by the right leg to allow for ample movement. Shimmering jewels sequin the dress from the chest to the feet in a scintillating sash. The jewels against their sapphire background look like stars in a night sky, and they sparkle when the dress even moves in the slightest. There are no straps, but the dress is held up by Byleth’s ample figure.

Lysithea closes her book and says, “This is the one, Professor,” and the other girls nod. Anna holds up a hand mirror for Byleth to take a glance, and she can see through her small view how stunning she really is. She never notices her beauty; it simply isn’t necessary on the battlefield. Her first thought that goes through her mind is, _what will Claude think?_

Hilda takes care of the monetary side of things, with the reward of sitting out this month’s mission, wink wink, nudge nudge. Everything is well until she mentions, “Now we need to work on your hair and face Professor. We’ll probably need to practice so we aren’t scrambling around for the right look on the night of the ball. Instead of our one-on-one practice sessions, we should turn them into makeup workshops.”

More than enough evenings in Hilda’s room are spent on creating the right look, and Hilda nearly gives up. “We want you to look sophisticated, but not unavailable. You need to look beautiful, but not unnatural. We just want to highlight your natural features, but I also want you to look unusually stunning, like something you would normally never see.” She tries again and again and again, but she does not find a look that satisfies her. The hair is right, but the face keeps getting messed up. Hilda looks down to her feet and says, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know if I can do it. I hate disappointing people so much. I feel like a failure. You’re one of the most important people in my life right now, and I’ve let you down.”

Marianne places a gentle hand on Hilda’s shoulder, and Byleth is about to console her, but a voice outside the door saying, “B-but that’s a woman’s room! I can’t enter a room full of women in a bedroom, what will people say?” grabs their attention.

Leonie pushes Ignatz through the door and presents him with a flourish of her hand. “I’ve brought the perfect guy for the job, everyone.”

Ignatz’s eyes dart from Byleth, to Hilda, to the brushes and palettes resting on her vanity. “Makeup? You want me to do makeup? Oh, no, no, no…”

He’s about to escape, but Leonie pushes him again and clenches onto his arms. “Seriously, man, it’s okay, it’ll be just like painting. Except instead of a canvas, it’s the Professor’s face.”

Ignatz is about to argue, but his face softens when he takes a second look at what he’s working with. “The dress is blue, you said? And the Professor has blue hair and blue eyes. Well, we can go monochromatic and stick to a blue color scheme… Oh! But maybe we could add a pop of drama and add in some orange. Is that too chaotic? Here, Hilda, let me see those…”

Ignatz works his magic, and he gets in The Zone. The other girls stare in wonder, curious how this feeble guy could turn into a determined warrior when working within his element. The brushes are flying, the mascara is running, and when Ignatz brushes loose bangs from his face, a swatch of blush streaks across his forehead.

He steps back. His creation is completed. The girls let their jaws drop to the floor as Ignatz beams. Byleth glances in the mirror and gasps at the woman staring back at her. In a word, she’s gorgeous.

“Great!” Hilda exclaims. “Now, do it again on the night of the ball!”

And then, the night of the ball does arrive. The students are all abuzz with the excitement the night will bring, and when they begin to arrive in the hall in their niceties and gowns, the evening feels transformed into a magical, far-off place, like a scene created out of a fairytale. The professors meet outside the hall near the gazebo to discuss how the evening will go.

“Oh, if I was back at the height of my opera career again, all the men would be lining up to ask me to dance,” Manuela sighs. “Alas, I am not the woman I used to be, and there are only boys here tonight, anyway. Not that that matters, though, a lot of the boys are of age…”

Hanneman smiles at Byleth and says, “You really look quite nice tonight, Professor. I did not think that you were the type to get dressed up for these kinds of events. I hope you enjoy the ball; you are about the same age as these students, so you should be allowed to join in on all the fun. Don’t worry about us older people, we’ll take care of the chaperoning.”

Byleth gives him a curt “thank you” nod, but then Hanneman remarks, “You know who surprised me today? Young Claude, that’s who. He volunteered a while back to help me set up the hall, and he nearly single-handedly cleaned out the whole hall! He talked about how much he had been looking forward to the ball, and how he was going to put his heart and soul into dancing. I’ve never seen him be so interested in such a formal occasion. Something must have excited him, that’s for certain. Or maybe he’s concocting up one of his schemes. I can never tell with the lad.”

The students continue to file into the hall, and the professors stay outside to greet them as they enter. Byleth stands off to the side, however, taking in the darkening night sky. Her dress and the sky match, and she feels connected and at peace. The stars have always grounded her, and tonight, they are a welcome sight. She is not used to feeling nervous, but this isn’t really nerves; no, it’s more like excited anticipation for the evening to come.

“Professor, are you coming?” Hanneman startles her out of her stargazing, ushering towards the doors. “I believe they are going to begin dancing.”

Byleth enters the hall just as the first notes of music are brought to life. The winner of the Heron Cup, Dorothea, starts off the dancing with her chosen partner, Ferdinand, and their graceful moves paired with the music create a spectacular opening to the ball. Their movements are entrancing, and the whole hall fixates on the couple. They swing around in time with such grace that it feels like watching a ballet performance, and everyone might have continued staring had not Edelgard grabbed Dmitri by the hand and led him to the floor. When they begin, everyone joins in as well.

Byleth almost cracks a rare smile at the sight, but her gaze is caught by another. Claude stands across the room, and their eyes meet for the first time that night.

Her heart jumps. Her breath catches in her throat. The man is simply beautiful.

He isn’t wearing anything completely out of the ordinary, and he is still just Claude, but the way he looks tonight, with his hair combed back and freshly pressed yellow garments complimenting his tanned skin, makes Byleth feel something within. Her stomach turns as he grins wide, a smile meant only for her. His eyes don’t have the usual mischievous Claude look, though. They look softer, more passionate. Awed, in fact. Like a groom seeing his bride on their wedding day.

Before she can stop herself, Byleth begins pacing towards the Golden Deer on the other side of the hall. Her feet are moving on their own volition, and her brain has lost all control over her movement. When she reaches Claude, he still has that beloved look in his eyes, and he glows at the sight of his professor.

Before he can speak, however, Lysithea comes running up out of breath, stammering, “Claude, you have to help me! Lorenz is trying to dance with me!”

He gives her a scrunched up face, like a baby eating a lemon. “Oooh, that’s not good. That’s not good at all. That’s like some creepy old man trying to ask out little girls.”

Lysithea throws out her arms and wails, “_Agh_, this isn’t the _time _to be making jokes about my age, come _on_!” and she grabs him by the wrist and takes him to the floor. Byleth lets out a small chuckle as Claude looks back helpless with a shrug, mouthing, “_Help me!_”

The students continue their frivolity, and Byleth stands in the background, enjoying her vantage point. Students from all three houses come and ask her to dance, but she politely declines all their requests. This is their night, not hers. And besides, she is waiting for someone. It isn’t until Hilda, her face flushed with energy from the night, comes up to her and says, “Nuh-uh, Professor, no way am I going to let you stand in the corner all night without dancing when we’ve put so much time and effort into you. Come on, now!” She grabs Byleth by the hand and drags her to the floor.

They reach the middle, and Hilda spins her professor around with a lift of her foot. Byleth almost giggles at Hilda’s innocence. “What’s wrong? I just wanna see you have fun!” The other girls from her class join in, and soon they are all holding hands in a circle and spinning around like windmills. The ladies bring so much joy, and Byleth can’t stop herself from grinning. Normally her students would make a big deal out of her showing emotion, but they are all so caught up in their own merriment that they fail to notice.

They dance together for two more songs, before Byleth admits defeat and retreats back to her corner. “Okay, Professor, but I’ll be back if I see you hanging out there for too long!” Hilda winks.

Byleth slumps against the wall, her heart beating fast and her face aglow with excitement. This energy is not foreign; she often felt this way after a battle, but never before had mere dancing produced this effect on her. She closes her eyes and lets the sound of the music encapsulate her as she listens to the clicking of heels on the wooden floor and the swishing of fabric sailing across the hall.

She opens her eyes again when a slower waltz comes on, and the single dancers leave the floor for refreshments as couples take their place. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices a figure draped in gold approaching her.

“Oh, Teach!” Claude feigns a look of surprise. He looks like he’s been scheming. “I didn’t even see you standing over there by yourself. I had no idea!”

Yes, definitely scheming.

He joins her against the wall and puts his arms around his head. “Great night tonight, isn’t it? Everyone’s been getting so into it.” He smiles and turns to Byleth. “I did what you told me to. I got so worked up about getting into the ball for you that I actually wound up excited for it. And truth be told, I’m glad you told me to stop being an old stick in the mud. It’s much more fun when you’re happy about things than when you’re critical.”

“Good, I’m glad you realized that. You should know that even the greatest warriors need breaks, and I was hoping this assignment would open your eyes to greater possibilities than cynicism.”

“Using a ball for a class assignment? You really are something, Teach.”

He chuckles for a bit, but then he coughs. “So, hey, I was curious. You’re over here, off to the side. I’m over here, off to the side. It seems that this song is really meant to be danced to as a two-person ensemble, and I’m just saying, I’m a big fan of waltzes.”

“Are you asking me to dance, Claude?” Byleth asks with playful curiosity.

“Whoa, Teach! Where did that idea come from? Isn’t this some sort of harassment thing, a teacher asking her student to come dance with her?”

Byleth rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “_Claude_.”

“Okay, okay. Yes, I might be insinuating that I would like to dance with you.”

Byleth hasn’t let him off the hook yet. “I only accept proper invitations.”

Claude gives her an incredulous look, but then he says, “Man, you’re really making me work hard tonight! Okay then, how about this.”

He takes her hand in his and gently, raising her hand towards his mouth, whispers, “May I have this dance?”

Byleth gives him a soft smile and a small nod, and grinning, he takes her to the floor. They don’t go to the middle; rather, they find a small corner to themselves. Their touching hands entwine further, and their open hands find their way to the small of her back and the back of his broad shoulder. They begin to sway.

“I’ll be honest…” Byleth whispers. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Hey, you’re in luck. I don’t either. I’ve just been doing whatever out there. Dancing isn’t really the first thing they teach you when you’ve only found out you’ve been a noble for a year. It’s a tough crash course to enroll in.” He smiles though, and tightens the grip above Byleth’s waist. “Why don’t we learn together?”

The waltz is slow enough in its one-two-three pattern that Byleth and Claude fall into the rhythm quickly. The warm glow of the hall lights up Claude’s face, and Byleth can’t find the strength to break away her gaze. She can see the loving look in his emerald eyes, and they stare back at her with a promise of comfort and security.

He laughs, which startles her. “You’re starting to lead now!”

“What do you mean? I’m simply moving to the music.”

“Do you see how we’re moving, though? We’re dancing in a way where my feet follow yours.”

“Does this bother you, Claude?”

“Well, no, of course not, but come on, Teach, you gotta cut the leader of House Riegan some slack. I gotta learn to lead someday. Here, let me try.”

He pulls in her closer, and now their chests are pressed against each other. Claude’s heartbeats pulse rapidly against her breasts, and she wonders if he can tell that she doesn’t have a heartbeat herself. He’s warm. His figure is so protective.

His head closes in next to her ear as their feet move in time. “One, two, three, one, two, three.” He counts along softly, his breath tickling her ear. Her feet follow his, and they move as one. The rest of the people on the floor seem to melt away. For this brief moment in time, they are the only two people in the world who exist.

Claude continues to count _one, two, three, one, two, three, _and his breath sends shivers down her neck. She wants to be held in his embrace forever, his warm strong arms protecting her while her own toned self follows suit. She would do anything, go anywhere with him as long as it meant he stayed safe.

He pulls his head back to meet her eyes again, and they are so close their foreheads almost touch. His soulful eyes feel like they stare into her straight to Sothis, and she’s glad that she’s wearing makeup because she’s blushing profusely. She takes a dangerous look at his lips, soft and ample and right there in front of her. She doesn’t allow herself to think about what could happen with those lips, those intoxicating lips, separated just enough to allow a few gasps of air loose as he concentrates on her face and the dance. Goddess, give her strength.

“Staring at something, Teach?” His playful jest brings her eyes back to his. She’s embarrassed he caught her, but part of her doesn’t feel guilty. She wants him to know she was looking at him, thinking things she shouldn’t. And she knows she can’t be the only one thinking impure thoughts because his eyes dart down to her lips as well. She leans forward ever so slightly, and their foreheads touch. His skin is warm, so warm, and his breath is dancing on her lips. They could close that gap if they wanted to, right now, and they would be connected. Her lips start to moisten. The warmth from his breath helps. It takes every muscle in her body not to just kiss him then and there. He’s breathing heavy now. He closes his eyes. She closes hers.

This moment could last forever.

But, the song ends. The sudden silence jolts them out of their stupor. They seem to realize that there were other people around them all along. Please, _please _don’t let anyone else have seen. She doesn’t want to think what will happen if the other students find out. She backs away quickly and brushes down her dress.

“Teach…” Claude’s voice trails off. There’s a whiney ache to the way he says her name, desperate for a moment longer. Byleth would return the aches, but she’s more composed than he is.

“Thank you for that dance,” she responds. “I learned a lot from your lesson.”

Claude scoffs and looks off with a smile. “I learned a lot, too. You know, Teach, you really are something interesting.”

“As are you, Claude.”

The next song starts up and other dancers return to the floor. As Byleth begins to walk away, Claude swoops down next to her and whispers in her ear, “You know, there’s some rumor that goes on about a boy and a girl going to the Goddess Tower tonight. I know a way over there where we wouldn’t run into anyone. We’d be all alone.”

Byleth turns to face him, a smile dancing playfully on her lips. “I would love to continue our lesson there.” Claude returns her smirk, but before he walks off, she pulls his own ear to her lips.

“But only if you let _me_ lead this time.”


End file.
